Good for Boggarts
by HeavenlyHorcrux
Summary: Harry Potter/Glee crossover. Santana, Brittany, and Quinn talk about their post-NEWT plans. Written for Unholy Trinity Week on Tumblr.


"Hey you two, guess what I just found out!"

Santana marched over to the Ravenclaw table, only pausing to scowl at a first-year until he vacated the seat next to Brittany. Brittany smiled and gave her a peck on her cheek; Quinn lowered her book and attempted to look mildly interested.

"I just had my appointment with Professor Sylvester, you know, the post-NEWT planning one, and she said scouts are coming to the next Quidditch match!"

Brittany grinned. "That's amazing, Santana!"

"Yeah, congrats. But you must've been expecting it. You're the highest scoring chaser your house has seen in, what, forty years?"

"Seventy, actually," Santana snarked.

Quinn dismissively flipped a hand and rolled her eyes.

"I haven't even gotten to the best part yet though." Santana swiped a piece of toast from where the platter had just replenished itself. "The teams that are sending people are the Prides, the Caerphilly Catapults, the Appleby Arrows, and," she trailed off.

"Santana," Brittany whined, nudging her with her elbow.

She bit her lip in a poor attempt to conceal her growing grin. "The Holyhead Harpies," she rushed out.

"Santana!" Brittany repeated herself, this time flinging her arms around her girlfriend's neck.

"Britt, you know she's probably just excited because she thinks they're sending over Ginny Potter to take a look at her. She's had a crush on her for _ages_."

Santana pulled away from her spot against Brittany's neck just enough to send Quinn a glare. "I have not. And I'll also have you know I've been a lifelong fan of the Harpies. Besides," she said, running a hand down to straighten her robes, "I look fantastic in green."

Brittany laughed. "You do."

"I bet you would look even better."

"I bet so, too."

Santana leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Quinn sighed.

"That conversation was nice while it lasted."

Brittany pulled away from Santana, but not without receiving a groan in complaint. "I didn't get to say how my meeting went!"

Santana turned back to her food, mumbling out a quiet "sorry, Britty."

Brittany grabbed her hand under the table. Quinn looked torn between going back to her book and paying attention.

"So I finally got a response on my application from the Unspeakables. They owled back last night and said as long as I get at least an E on all of my NEWTs, I'm guaranteed a training spot come fall."

A stunned, albeit short, silence befell the girls. Santana broke it.

"I'm dating a genius."

Brittany laughed. "The only NEWT I'm really worried about is Astronomy. Why does it have to be at midnight? Why can't they just charm a ceiling like in the Great Hall?"

"This is so cool. My best friend–" Santana interrupted Quinn with a loud cough. "Fine, _one _of my best friends," she amended, to Santana's approval, "is going to be an Unspeakable. I hear there's a room in the Department of Mysteries that's locked to everyone but the most senior Unspeakables and has the strongest magic in the world in it. No one knows if that's true or not because there's no books about what the Department contains, not even in the Restricted Section."

Santana snorted. "You would know that."

"And how'd your Head of House meeting go, Q? You had yours yesterday too, right?" Brittany asked.

"Oh, I met with Professor Longbottom instead. He said he had a friend who was a curse breaker. He was really nice and gave me cauldron cakes and butterbeer and those little sugar knots the Leaky Cauldron makes."

"I wish he was my Head of House," Santana grumbled.

"I think everyone does," Quinn replied.

Quinn and Brittany quietly gossiped as Santana helped herself to breakfast.

"I hear Finn Hudson is banking on becoming an auror," Quinn said.

Santana choked on her pumpkin juice. Brittany patted her back.

"He's not even taking NEWT-level charms or potions," Brittany pointed out. "And didn't he get a T on his Transfiguration OWL?"

"That's only because the examiner thought he transfigured himself into a troll, but that was just his face. He would sooner push the tea trolley on the Hogwarts Express than become an auror, that dimwitted half-giant," Santana remarked.

"Don't say that, Hagrid's half-giant–"

"Oh, you know what I meant, Quinn."

"–but he walks around like Harry Potter's already handed him a badge," Quinn said. "Speaking of half-giant non-giants, what's he doing at your table, Santana?"

Santana and Brittany shift in their seats to see Finn Hudson gesturing wildly at someone seated at the Slytherin table. He appeared to be close to kicking a chair.

"He's probably trying to talk to the troll again," Santana said.

"Don't call her that," Quinn absentmindedly murmured. "I wish someone would do something about him."

"You know I would, but the last time I tried I got a month's detention. I think it's enough all the Gryffindors are ashamed of him. And McLaggen's his only friend to boot."

"He would be good for boggarts," Brittany mused.

A look of confusion flicked over Santana's face before: "Brittany, that's _riddikulus_."

Quinn raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Really, Santana? On that note, I leave you two," she said, grabbing her book and pushing out her chair, leaving Brittany and Santana laughing in her wake.


End file.
